Chapter 9

A few moons after Elia's nameday, on a beautiful and breezy morning, Azaerys gently tied the laces on little Daenerys's boots, who was, just like him, wearing leather pants and a shirt, ready to go out on a ride on Aerylyx.

The Princess was super excited as this was her favourite time of the week, the day when he would take her with him on a ride, and as soon as her boots were tied, she opened her arms to him, requesting him to pick her up.

"What's the point of wearing shoes if you don't even walk?" He chuckled but picked her up in her arms as always.

"I am a Princess," she informed him, and when he rolled his eyes at her words, she melodiously giggled.

Azaerys carried her to the door and stopped when he saw Ser Oswell coming over from down the hallway.

"Ser Oswell?" He asked, but before the Kingsguard spoke, he already had his answer.

"Your Grace," bowed the Kingsguard, "The Grand Priest is here, and he has requested to see you."

As soon the Princess in his arms heard the words, she turned to look at him, waiting for his answer, and even though she wore an innocent look on her face, he could sense that she was already upset.

"Let's go and hear what he has to say. I will take you on a ride afterwards." He said to her, and she nodded her head, not saying anything.

Inside the Guest Hall, stood a tall and thin man, clad in blood-red satin, a pendant with a large red Ruby on his neck, blood-red gloves, and a staff, which was made out of black wood, shaped in the form of a serpent climbing the stick and had a ball-shaped figurehead with wings sprouting from it.

His head had pure white hair, and despite being centuries old, the man still looked young, in his early middle age, and also had a well-trimmed white beard.

His skin was brown, on a lighter shade, and his eyes were red, the same colour he was covered in.

"Your Grace," The Grand Priest bowed to him, supporting himself with the staff, and when he raised his head, his eyes curiously looked at the Young Princess in the Dragonlord's arms.

"Lord Kerosc," Azaerys returned the greeting, and then signalled the guard to leave and close the door of the Hall, "What brings you here today?"

"A question, Your Grace,"

"And the Price?"

"Our Missionary group, who was roaming the City of Astapor, came across a Pirate who had brought captives to be sold in the market. Among them was a Naathi Family. They saw in the flames that the destiny of that family was linked to your House, and so, the Priest in charge bought them for you."

The Young King raised his brow at the man.

"This sounds more like a gift than a price," he said and asked again, "What's the price?"

Hearing his words, the Grand Priest smiled.

"What does Your Grace want?"

Azaerys looked him in the eyes, and the man felt like his soul was being searched by those hauntingly purple eyes, which glowed with powers that others were unable to see.

"Ask your question, and I will name you the price before I answer."

Kerosc felt like the Dragolord already knew his question, but still began speaking.

"For moons, I sat in front of the Fire, asking the Lord of Light to show himself to me,"

Azaerys raised his brow at those words, aware of the risks involved with such a desire.

"And? Did you see your Lord?" He asked.

"I don't know, Your Grace," said the man, confusing him a little, "My prayer was heard, but the one I saw in the flames, every time, was you."

"You are the Lord of Light, Azer?" Daenerys suddenly asked, curious by the Grand Priest's words, and the Young King sighed at her question, not answering her.

He smiled at her and gently placed his forefinger on her lips, telling her to stay quiet, and little Daenerys giggled but obediently nodded her head, promising to keep quiet.

"What's your question, Lord Kerosc?" He asked for the final time, and the man knew that he had to answer straightforwardly now.

"Are you the Fire, Your Grace?"

"Dragons Eggs," said Azaerys, making both Daenerys and Kerosc curiously look at him.

"They can be arranged..."

"No," the Young King cut him off, "I want the ones that you are keeping warm inside your Eternal Hearth, under your temple, the Black one, the Golden one, and two others, smaller, the purple-scaled and the grey-scaled ones."

Kerosc turned silent at his words.

He did not mind giving the purple-scaled Egg or the grey-scaled Egg since he had previously given Azaerys the blue and white-scaled Egg from the same clutch, which the Dragonlord's soon-to-be wife took. However, the Golden and Black Eggs were special.

They were in that Hearth long before he was even born, a time that everyone had forgotten and even he knew very little about. It was believed that the two Eggs had been there since the inception of the Grand Temple when Stygai still stood proudly and the Ancient Ones ruled the world.

They were protected by the Eternal Flame, and to pick them up, sacrifices would need to be made, but that was not what concerned him.

His fears rested elsewhere.

"The fire in the Hearth will not die if you remove them. They are not linked," Azaerys assured him, and the Grand Priest felt uncomfortable when his thoughts and fears were seen through.

"Is the price just, Your Grace?" He asked.

"Yes, and even then, you will end up owing, but that debt is not to be paid in this life."

Kerosc's body trembled at those words, and he tightened his grip around his staff, supporting himself, but then, as if something inside him was crushed, he dropped to his knees, and kept his head lowered before Azaerys.

It was too late to change his mind. He already had the answer, but the Red Priest did not regret his decision in the least.

Daenerys was confused at what was happening, but only two words were on her mind.

"Dragon Eggs?" She expectantly asked, breaking her promise to keep quiet, and he smiled at her, nudging his nose against hers. "Want one?"

"Yes!"

He laughed at her excitement and then looked at Kerosc, whose body was still trembling after what had been revealed to him.

"Let's go, I will remove the Eggs from the Hearth. If you do it, you will die." He said, and the Grand Priest nodded his head before he fought his way up to his feet again, and slowly followed the Dragonlord out.

The residents of the town, and other Priests, all greeted them when they passed by, and even though some were confused as to why the Grand Priest seemed a little lost, nobody raised any questions.

His two Kingsguards, Arthur and Oswell, followed behind Kerosc, not in their metallic armours, but leather ones, bearing the Sigil of the House Targaryen.

"Stay," Azaerys told them when they reached the stairs of the Grand Temple, and both stopped to stand guard there.

Only the people who followed the Lord of the Light or belonged to the Temple were allowed inside, and though Azaerys was an exception, his guards were not.

The Grand Priest never raised any objection to the girl he was carrying in his arms, and it was because he could sense that she too was magically very strong. Not as strong as the Young King, but way stronger than anyone else. She was brimming with magic, almost like a beacon of light, and in his arms, she looked like she was a part of him.

Kerosc did not even have to lead the way as Azaerys seemed very familiar with the layout of the temple, and a few minutes later, they finally arrived in the chamber where the Eternal Hearth was situated.

The Grand Priest looked at the magical flame that had been burning for thousands of years, and he knew that if it ever went out, it would mean that the end of everything was coming and no hope was left.

He finally felt a little restless but did not say anything as Azaerys approached the Hearth, inside which two Drgaon Eggs were resting, surrounded by flames that would kill anyone upon contact.

Not just by burning their flesh but by also burning their souls.

What Kerosc witnessed next, ended any doubts that had remained in his heart, and it was because the Young King simply drew his hands into the flames, which parted, allowing him to reach the Eggs. And when his hand landed on the Golden Egg, which was much bigger than something that could be gripped with a single hand of a normal person, it just stuck to his palm and was easily lifted, almost as if it was glued to it.

"Here," he gently smiled at the little girl in his arms as he handed her the Egg, and she hugged it as if it was her baby.

And she too did not look like she was having a hard time holding it.

Azaerys then lifted the Black Egg, smiled at it, and then turned to glance at the few more Eggs, which were placed on top of the Hearth. They were smaller in size, but otherwise, they looked very similar to the one he was holding in his hand.

"You can take all of them, Your Grace," Kerosc said, glancing at the six Eggs, which had been collected over the Centuries, with the last being sent here a few years before the Doom of Valyria.

"I don't have a need for more. They are safe here." He said, and the Red Priest smiled at his words.

He walked to the side, emptied a chest that was filled with Gold coins, and then brought it over to place the Eggs inside it.

Daenerys simply refused to hand over her Egg, and Azaerys allowed her to keep it in her arms.

"Where's the Naathi Family that you talked about?"

"They are in the Slave Hall." The Grand Priest informed him.

A short while later, the three of them arrived inside the Hall, where, a few dozen Slaves of all ages, the youngest being Daenerys' age, were standing wearing thin see-through garments. The priests were busy assessing them, marking them, and deciding what their future would be.

As soon as they entered, all the Priests bowed their way, and seeing their submission, the slaves all tensed up.

Azaerys noticed the Naathi Family in an instant, and it was due to their dusky skin, dark and thick curvy hair, which flowed down to their backs, and eyes, molten gold, which they had inherited from their beautiful and magical ancestors.

He walked over to the couple, who bore an uncanny resemblance to each other, and the woman protectively wrapped her arms around her three boys, who looked to be around 6, 7, and 8 years old.

The Young King pulled up the chin of the oldest boy and looked deep into his molten gold eyes. Soon, a smile formed on his lips, and he gently patted the boy's head.

"I will give you a choice. Either you stay at the Temple, let the Priests decide your fate, or your family comes to my Manse and be the servants of my House." He said to the woman, who was older than her mate, her brother. "You and your children will not be mistreated." He assured her.

The Naathi were shocked to hear him speak in their tongue, but once it wore off, the woman immediately nodded her head, accepting his terms.

Azaerys then turned to look at the rest of the slaves. He could tell that most of them were chosen to be the future Priests and Priestesses, and some even wanted this for themselves.

However, he still asked if there was anyone who would like to return home or serve his House instead of becoming part of the Temple, and only a few turned to look at him in hope.

The children, who were orphans and did not know any better, were unable to make the decision for themselves, and so, he took away everyone under the age of eight.

No one stopped him, not a single Red Priest said anything. It was not the first time that this had happened.

Arthur and Oswell could not help their smiles when they saw him walking out with fifteen new servants and silently followed him back to the Manse.

A few servants immediately came over and guided the new servants to their residences and informed them about the things that were expected of them.

"Your Grace," The Sword of the Morning confusedly looked at him when Azaerys gave him a grey-coloured Dragon Egg.

"Why Arthur? Why do you refuse a gift from your Lord?"

"I do not dare, Your Grace." The man immediately said and accepted the Egg, and before he could thank his King for it, someone rushed into the study, brimming with excitement.

"Azer!" Rhaemon called out to him, and after jumping into his arms and giving him a hug, the little boy excitedly looked at the two Eggs inside the chest.

Rhaenys, Allyria, Viserys, and Aegon arrived as well, and they gathered around to wait for dark-haired Targaryen to make his pick.

Azaerys smiled when he saw Rhaemon struggling to make a pick.

On one hand, he wanted to take the big black Egg, and on the other hand, he was pretty much smitten with the beautiful purple egg.

"Here. This is yours," he picked up the purple Egg and handed it to his little brother, who grinned and happily accepted it.

"Thank you!"